


No Regrets

by Ariel_Tempest



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Babies, Beware Cavities, Discussion of Children, Fluff, Gen, Sugar, no redeeming value
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariel_Tempest/pseuds/Ariel_Tempest
Summary: Mrs. Hughes likes her life.





	No Regrets

"Who's the bonniest little lad in Yorkshire, hm?" Mrs. Hughes asked the baby held above her head, more to flatter his mother than himself. "I think it must be you!"

Anna smiled at the kind words and little Danny burbled happily as she lowered him into a more comfortable position. The boy was a healthy size, so holding him up high for long periods of time was a stretch, even to someone younger than Downton's house keeper. "You might not want to let Lady Mary hear you say that," Anna teased, giving the older woman a knowing look. "Or Mr. Carson."

"Master George is not so little anymore," Mrs. Hughes reasoned. "And until Lady Mary has a second son, there's no other competition that matters."

"True, I suppose," Anna relented, reaching for her son. He was relinquished without complaint. "I'm glad I can keep him in the nursery, though. I'd hate to have to stop working."

"And I'd be quite sorry to lose you, make no mistake. Things being what they are, I'm not sure we'd be able to find another lady's maid worth her salt."

Anna considered that. "Perhaps, or perhaps the shortage of jobs would make it easier? Who can say. Hopefully we won't have to find out for awhile." The two women fell into a companionable silence. Lady Mary had gone to bed early, so Anna was at loose ends until Mr. Bates was finished with Lord Grantham. Mrs. Hughes, on the other hand, was dawdling. Mr. Carson had been fighting a cold and had reached the point where he was healthy enough to be out of the forest, but still ill enough to be peevish. His wife intended to blame some last minute things that needed seeing to or something Mr. Barrow needed help with for her tardiness.

(Although, once she thought about it, she realized she'd best not drag Mr. Barrow into it. Mr. Carson would be apt to scold him later, and the new butler wouldn't appreciate that in the least.)

"Do you ever wish you had children?" Anna asked, her tone mild, her eyes on the child in her lap who was merrily blowing bubbles with his spit. It was adorable, but also made quite a mess.

"Me?" Mrs. Hughes asked, then laughed, taken by surprise. "Gracious no. Don't get me wrong, I love Mr. Carson and he's quite good with other people's children for a short spell, but he wouldn't know what to do with one of his own if it fell from Heaven and landed on his head!"

The sentiment, or perhaps the way it was expressed, made Anna laugh. "Oh goodness! I don't know who I'd pity more, him or the baby!"

"Pity me! I'd be the one to have to take care of them both!"

It took a couple of minutes for Anna to control her giggling, much to Danny's delight. The baby laughed along with her. "But what about before? When you were a young woman? Didn't you want them then?"

The older woman poured herself a new cup of tea from the pot on the table, sat back, and thought about it. "There were times I thought I did. There were times when I would look at another woman with her family about her and think 'That should be me. That should be the life I'm trying to make for myself.' At some point, though, I realized my heart wasn't really in it. I'd simply grown up expecting to get married and have a family after awhile and not even stopped to realize there were other ways of living." She sipped her tea. "I've had other people to care about. I've had the staff here. The family, although they've not been as dear to me as they are to Mr. Carson, I'm not shamed to admit. I've had Mr. Carson for all these years." She smiled softly and didn't mention her sister. Anna didn't need to know about that. "Perhaps I have missed opportunities, but I've not minded. I find I'm quite content with my lot in life." She looked down at Danny and her smile grew knowing. "Besides, this way I can play with other people's babies and hand them back to their mothers when they start getting fussy, can't I?"

Anna laughed again. While Danny was a generally good-natured baby, there had been plenty of complaints from his parents about being woken at ungodly hours of the night and other such inevitability. 

Before the conversation could go any further, there were footsteps in the hallway. They were followed in short order by a rather harried looking Thomas Barrow. It was hard to say what, exactly, made him look harried. His livery was, as always, neat as a pin, and his hair so smoothed with pomade nothing short of physical contact could muss it. There was definitely something about the set of his mouth, though, that told Mrs. Hughes he was somewhat agitated. "Have either of you seen the..." he started, then stopped, his eyes lighting on the table. "Oh, there it is. The teapot." He gave them a stiff smile. "I don't suppose there's another cup in there?"

"There should be," Mrs. Hughes replied, standing to fetch him a clean cup. He actually allowed himself a soft, huffing sigh as he sat, several chairs away from where the two women had been conversing at the table, and waited for her to pour his drink. After giving it to him and receiving appropriate thanks for her effort, she asked, "Is everything all right, Mr. Barrow?"

All traces of agitation immediately vanished behind a bright smile and straightening shoulders, a sure sign that no, everything was not all right. "Oh, well enough," he assured her brightly – even more suspicious. "Just a few little things, nothing to worry about. The latest wine delivery I expected today is late, but I'm sure it will be here in time for the house party this weekend, and if not, no great fuss. The books are taking a bit longer to go over than I'd anticipated, things like that."

Mrs. Hughes translated that to mean he was afraid that the wine wouldn't come in time for the house party and they'd have to settle for serving a vintage currently in the cellars, which was not what Lord Grantham had hoped, and for which he might be blamed despite the fact it was completely beyond his control. Also that the books weren't balancing, probably because he was upset about the wine, and that he was about to work himself into an absolute state of panic over what was probably nothing more that failure to carry a number. 

"Well, try not to stay up too late over the books," she advised, trying to sound sage rather than sympathetic. She'd known for years that there was a trick to actually getting Thomas to calm down rather than simply fret more, but now, working with him as closely as she did on a day to day, she was finding herself having to master that trick very quickly. With only about a month's practice she still hadn't perfected it, but she knew that pity was the last thing he wanted. "I'm sure once you've gotten through it all, everything will be just as it should be, and that will be as true in the morning as it would be tonight, so don't stay up. And if the wine doesn't get here, well. It wouldn't be the first time his Lordship had to settle for something other than his first choice. I remember one time Mr. Carson went to retrieve the last case of one vintage only to discover that something had been at the cork of two bottles. We got through that well enough, we can get through this."

Thomas didn't look at her, simply sipped his tea, eyes on the cup, but she could tell from his stillness and silence that he was listening. She carefully did not mention the time they'd had to adjust their plans because there were bottles missing all together.

Gently she suggested, "When you're done with your tea, why don't you go have a smoke? Then maybe spend a little bit longer at the books and if you aren't done in an hour or so, go to bed? I'm certain you'll find it comes easier after a good night's sleep."

"Not a bad idea," Thomas allowed, muttering into his cup. He finished the tea quickly enough, then stood and bid the two of them good night with a smile that was now only slightly strained. 

Mrs. Hughes stood listening until she heard the door to the yard close behind him, then turned to Anna. With a sigh and a fond smile she asked, "Really, why would I need babies when I have butlers?"

**Author's Note:**

> Last of the things I'm migrating over from tumblr. Debated whether or not to do this one since it's more of a scene than a story, but given that I don't get to write Mrs. Hughes often and I do love her, I decided to go ahead.


End file.
